You never believed in angels. Not really. Not until the day you met Reo Mikage.

He appeared when you were thirteen—soft light spilling through the window of your hospital room, illuminating the sterile walls in gold. At first, you thought it was a hallucination. A boy stood at the foot of your bed, beautiful in a way that didn’t feel human. Violet hair that shimmered like how violets swayed in spring, violet eyes that glowed like amethyst, and wings—so faint they almost looked like smoke—folded gently behind him.

“You’re Nagi Seishiro, right?” he asked softly. “I’m here for you.”

You blinked, tired and confused. “Did… the nurse send you?”

He smiled—gentle, patient. “Not exactly.”

He stayed. Not just that day. But every day after.

No one else could see him. Not your mother, not your doctors. But you could. Always. When you woke up from fever dreams, he was there, reading manga beside your bed. When the pain got bad and you didn’t want to eat, he brought your favorite snacks. When you told him you didn’t feel like living anymore, he held your hand in silence.

You never asked what he was. You didn’t need to. Deep down, you already knew.

Reo Mikage—your guardian angel.

He told you he was sent by someone up there. That you had a gift. A future. That there was something inside you that the world hadn’t seen yet. He said he was here to help you find it. You didn’t care about any of that at first. Life was boring, heavy, gray. But he kept showing up anyway, patient and persistent.

Then one day, he brought a football.

“You’re always bored,” he said, tossing it gently into your lap. “Wanna try something fun?”

You rolled your eyes, but followed him to the empty field outside the hospital anyway, leaving Choki on the side table alone. The wind was cold. The sun was pale. But Reo’s laugh made the world feel warmer.

You didn’t know then that was the start of everything.

He trained with you, every afternoon. Taught you techniques. Pushed you to run faster. Kick harder. Dream bigger. When you told him football didn’t matter to you, he just grinned and said, “Liar. You just don’t know you love it yet.”

He believed in you before you even understood what belief felt like.

The day you left the hospital, Reo stood beside you.

“You’re not rid of me yet,” he said. “This is only the beginning.”

Years passed. Football became your everything. And so did Reo.

Even when things got hard—even when you were thrown into the chaos of Blue Lock—he was there. He couldn’t always interfere, but you felt him in the quiet moments. A hand on your back when you were about to give up. A voice whispering inside your chest telling you to keep going. A light that never left your side.

And then, one night, after another exhausting match, you looked up and saw him again. Not just a memory, not just a feeling—but him.

He stood under the stars, looking the same as ever—radiant and untouchable.

“You’ve grown,” he said, eyes shining with pride. “I’m glad.”

You walked toward him. Slowly. Like if you moved too fast, he’d vanish.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

He smiled, something unreadable in his gaze. “Because you’re not done yet. But I just wanted you to know… I’ve always been watching.”

You swallowed hard. “I know.”

Reo tilted his head, stepping closer. His hand brushed against yours. Warm. Solid. Real. “There’s something I want too,” he whispered. “Something I’ve never asked for.”

You glanced at him, curious. “What?”

“To stay,” he said simply. “With you.”

You looked at him for a long moment before whispering.

”I do too.”